


what lies between

by Sonny



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comment Fic, Drama, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-05
Updated: 2011-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-17 15:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the first time sam tops - from deirdre_c on LJ</p>
            </blockquote>





	what lies between

**Author's Note:**

> For the Like A Virgin - Feels like the first time : a sam/dean_otp comment fic and art meme...

 

**what lies between**

  
The first time Sam tops wasn't planned by him. It's been in the back of Dean's mind to make the offer just because since this intimacy is growing between them, Dean's had fantasies. Some would look at him and think he wants to take and dominate his brother, but actually it's more like Dean's been wanting to be taken, dominated over. He already knows everything there is to know about Sam. A little more education won't hurt.

They started off slow... sharing kisses and making out, which was weird since how this all began was a back alley jerk-fest that could've turned sexual in the sense of one brother taking the top position over the other. Then it was a shower, more kissing and stroking one another to orgasm again. Each night they'd sleep together, dressed, and wake up naked curled around each other, both with raging hard-ons. By the next night, they decided to sleep naked and see where that got them, which was when blow jobs and rimming was introduced. The only penetration, anally, was a moist tongue, maybe wet fingers to stimulate ejaculation. Then finally arrived the day when they both thought the other was dead during a hunt gone terribly wrong and... screw routine, they fell into bed. Clothes flew everywhere, hands caressed and arms held, then they roughly slammed their bodies together until they came. They were tempted to have sex, especially with Dean poised between Sam's splayed legs, but... it was more important to embrace and kiss, savoring what just happened over the course of their very extremely long horrendous day.

Sam always assumed the first time they'd fuck it would be Dean taking over. It felt logical, practical. He liked the idea because even though he still hated Bossy Dean, somehow it would translate different in bed, naked and cocks so hard they'd shatter glass. He's prepared for Dean to take the top position. Older, wiser (?)... it feels right to let Dean overpower him and enter his body, staking a permanent claim on him and thrusting inside until he shoots every single drop of his load...

Sam closes his eyes at the thought, licking his lips as he tugs on his jeans.

Dean catches sight of that tongue and almost loses control of the wheel. He looks down at where Sam's hand rests, curved around a thigh, fingers curled inseam to the bulge in his crotch. “Sam...”

“Just drive, Dean. Leave it alone.”

He said _it_. Sam said _those words_ and now Dean's making a huge deal out of them like Sam expects a marriage proposal, a white picket fence and 2.5 kids—maybe a dog. It's different than he's said before. The “I love you” of a naïve twelve-year old Sammy are world's apart from the “I am 'in love' with you” of a twenty-five year old Sam, who's found himself desiring and wanting the one person forbidden to him. He doesn't want anyone else, just Dean. There is no one more perfectly fucked-up than him.

Dean said he would agree to this added “closeness” as long as that's all it was. No “feeling” or “emotions” involved that turned them into catty, vindictive people. Or where they became irrationally jealous and protective, staking claims and making “rules” to obey. Dean wanted the sex because he was quickly realizing there was never going to be a woman out there like Sam. Why not see what life would be like sharing a sexual intimacy with Sam and if he began to feel differently, then so be it. His own plan was flawed, backfiring on him. After telling Sam it was just a “one time” thing, then it was just going to be something to do to release tension. And when it kept happening, it was something they would do occasionally to “keep human”... suddenly the man who doesn't want love falls in love and it's with his little brother. On top of all the shit thrown at them—Michael, Lucifer and the apocalyptic end of the world—the last thing they need is to complicate their relationship further. But Dean can't help it... Sam's a good-looking guy. He's easy on the eyes, he has a good heart, and he's always there when you need him. It's easy to look past the horrors within to the man... the human inside and not feel attraction or affections. He simply never knew Sam would become his ideal lover, in every way, shape and form.

Dean glances down at the map next to him in Sam's left hand. He knows the next town is a little under an hour away, but the idea that Sam could be packing some major bone-age punches him in the gut and makes him twitch. He knows it's a matter of time before he's just as hard or worse as Sam must be. He's seen it now—Sam's cock—and he's touched it, licked it, tasted its juices and made it erupt with thick semen. It's a heady feeling, knowing you have a certain affect on people. Especially when it comes to the vulnerability in sex.

Sam tries to keep his eyes out the windshield, not wanting to look at Dean. He knows what he'll see; the Impala swerves a few times over the yellow line. He hopes they make it to the next town over, hearts beating and lives intact. He picks up the folded map to bring over to his lap to check if there's anything closer. He wants Dean to know he's aware, he understands and he's here for him—whatever he needs, whenever he needs it. Sam is tabulating between miles and minutes in his head when he feels Dean slow down and take a sharp turn off the lone desert road to drive over dusty plains and park right beside a red clay boulder. Sam sits in stunned shock as Dean cuts off the engine, taking the keys with him as he storms off out of the Impala.

“oh-kayyy...” Sam's got no clue what just happened, but when he looks out the window he catches sight of Dean's frantic pacing and his arms flapping in mid-air as it looks as if he's in a mental breakdown. He puts aside the map and opens the door to step outside. Sam will stand right at the passenger door in case Dean wants to rage or vent; he'll try to stay out of Dean's way. “Not that it matters, but there's a smaller town a few miles outside of Hayton. We could stop there if they have a good place to eat and a decent motel.”

 **_“YOU THINK I DON'T CARE!”_ **

“What?” Sam isn't playing around. He really can't hear Dean at all. He slams the door to come around the front of the Impala. “What did you say?”

“You say you're _in love_ with me and because I don't retort the feeling back it means I _don't care_ about you or... love you.”

“No, Dean. I'm only going by what you've been saying all along. You didn't want this to get too serious and... sorry, I tried, but... I can't lie to myself or you anymore. I've fallen in love with you.”

“... oh, jesus—fuck...”

“Look, I told you already, I don't feel in desperate need to hear it back. You love me—Sam—your little brother. That's strangely... enough. I didn't think it was possible to feel more intensity to love to negate its concept. Isn't it just how we've always been—willing to die for one another? Now I know I'd sacrifice everything I am for you because... well, you're IT for me.”

“Stop!... christ... jus' stop talkin' like that.”

“Why?—'cuz it's not what you want or want to hear?”

“No... because—it wasn't anything until you said it, and it actually fuckin' made sense to why I—I think I've been 'in love' with you but unwilling to—you know—give in for fear it'll...”

“—weaken you to my evil, sinister ways.”

“I don't want you to think that before all this... I would've changed my mind and said 'yes' to Michael.”

“Well, I would hope not, 'cuz I don't really plan on sayin' 'yes' to Lucifer.”

“So... that's it... we admit we're in love and then... we're on our way to paradise.”

“I know you too well, Dean... you wouldn't have stopped just to emote your words. You've done that in the car plenty of times. No, you stopped because there's something _else_ you want.”

“I do? _Really?_ And what do I want?”

“I'll take a wild guess and say— _this_...” Sam pushes Dean against the red rock; his mouth is hungrily devouring Dean's lips. Dean moans under breath as he brings up his hands to hold Sam's head, sliding fingers backward to yank on brown strands. “Am I close?”

“You need to be _closer_.” Despite having jackets on with three, or two, layers of shirts, Dean goes for the jean's button and zipper. He's diving deep beneath cotton and denim and he takes the wide girth in his hand, jerking to a gentle stroke. Sam lets out a grunt, falling forward to cause Dean to lean on the rock surface. Above him, Sam is gasping and half-lidded in ecstasy, then he bends down to bite at jaw and then chin to munch on bottom lip, taking possession of that hot, open mouth.

It takes Sam a few minutes before he clears his mind enough to work on Dean's button-fly and delving his hands inside to find Dean in much the same state. As they kiss and stroke one another, the later afternoon wind begins to pick up and a sudden chill settles over them.

 **_“... impala...”_ **   
**_“... let's go in the impala...”_ **

They laugh at the odd synchronicity of the same thought and request. They both move to their sides of the vehicle, but on the back passenger end.

Dean climbs in and quickly shuts his door while Sam has to wiggle his enormous frame in the backseat. He's not little Sammy anymore—in every way possible. Dean sits there, hands shaped around his thighs and Sam finally shuts the door to block out high desert wind. The impala shakes a bit in her metal framework.

“I don't, uh...”

“What?”

“Condoms. I don't have any on me. At least, I don't think I do.”

“Wait... that out there was like—was _that_ foreplay? You wanted us to actually fuck this time?”

Dean shrugs. “Why not. Isn't it customary in most chick flicks? The big reveal that the two main people love one another... the clothes peel away, they make wild, passionate love and then... well, you know better than I do...”

“I thought we DON'T do chick flicks?”

“Well, a few aren't god-awful. It's inevitable. I assume some are based on a fabricated reality. I don't know, you tell me.”

“Dean... it's okay—I know you enjoyed 'Pretty Woman'... and that you cried during 'The Notebook'. I'm not gonna revoke your man-card because of it.”

“I don't—I don't want you to assume that the way I am, outside of what lies between us, is the way I'll be with you. I need you to know that I'll—within reason—do whatever you want to do.”

“What if what I want is to know what pleases you?”

“Hmm?'

“After everything is over and things are put to rest... who gets to be there for Dean?”

“uh-oh... did you read a historical romance novel at the clinic again...”

“Dean... quit it...” Sam let his hand move over the shoulder, up the neck to brush the backs against the rough cheek and jaw. “This isn't a game anymore.”

“I know, I know it isn't... it's just, you touch me, like that, an' I...”

“— _what_?”

“—I _tingle_...”

“Oh? You... _tingle_?”

“Don't laugh. Do it again, but, like, do your fingers in my hair thing over my scalp like you did the other night. I don't know how to explain it, but you... you make my skin shake—would that equal a 'tingle'?”

“I don't know. Now I'm curious.” Sam draws up his left leg as he sits facing Dean and then touches his face again. As Dean lulls his head back on the seat, Sam sends his hand down a different direction, along neck, under ear to back of the nape. Once he's at the hairline and fingers cascade upward into spikes, he glances down at Dean and watches as hands grab at inner thighs, moving up legs to pelvis and along chest wall—all the while there's a slight quiver to Dean's lower limbs, like his body quakes from within.

“... jesus...” It turns Sam on to know how he turns Dean on... just by mere touch. “C'mere... look at me...” A soft bump to Dean's chin gets him to swivel his head to open languid eyes. “It's okay that we don't have condoms. I don't need them. I want—okay, here's a news flash—I wouldn't mind feeling you bare inside of me. I wouldn't...” He looks down again as those words catapult Dean to shake faster until he's rolling his eyes in the back of his head and his right hand reaches out to clutch desperately at Sam's jacket and shirts. It's obvious what's happening; Sam cups the hidden bulge in the open jeans and rubs Dean into a earth-shattering climax. The hand at the back of the head pulls Dean toward Sam's neck and shoulder, and now he can fall to pieces within Sam's arms, bit by bit under Sam's control.

Dean lays against Sam, coming out of his hormonal daze after ejaculation and he doesn't want words anymore. He's overheating and hot... he needs to be naked and so does Sam. “I want our first time to be you fucking me.”

“Dean, no...”

“Yes, Sam... you want to do what pleases me—well, what will give me pleasure is having you take me... feel you—bare—inside me and...”

Sam covers shaking fingers over Dean's mouth. “Tell me this isn't your first time- _first time_.”

“What? You mean—”

“A virgin? I know I've never asked you, but it just didn't seem...”

“Yes.”

“Oh...” Sam moves away to sit back correctly in the seat. He slouches a little as is Dean, who is still a bit rattled by his orgasm. “—no pressure, huh?”

“Well, who knew you could be a virgin twice?”

“I always thought it'd be _you_.”

“Me?—what? I don't fuck other guys.”

That statement causes both of them to chuckle and elbow one another.

Sam rolls his head to look at Dean. “I really wished you'd driven a few more miles. The Impala isn't really my most romantic ideal for sex.”

“Hey... I think we were about to fuck on a rock. I see this as an improvement.”

“Not only have I never fucked a guy... I've never fucked in a backseat.”

“Never? Not even...?”

“No, Dean. I'm kind of a gentleman, you know.”

“I do know, but you know you don't need to be that with me. I'm built exactly like you. I can take a lot of what you give me. I can't guarantee pure enjoyment... you know, like, the stabbing pain in my rectum I'll feel or— _whatever_...”

“It's supposed to feel like—well, like you got something deep inside you need to expel.”

“Great... so it's like I need to take a dump.”

They laugh more and louder, the tension and awkwardness breaking as they're able to disassociate with their surroundings and focus on each other.

“Well, you like being 'fingered'. That hasn't displeased or disgusted you.”

“I know... I just... it's not even about pain or having your dick inside of me... it's the meaning or significance of everything. I want it NOT to be what could ruin or destroy us. If I don't like it, or I don't find it arousing... that's not me rejecting you.”

“I know, Dean. I've never be that petty. We do fine without it. My intentions aren't to hurt you, which was why I was going to offer you myself.”

Sam sat upright and forward, starting to slide out of his jacket sleeves. Dean begins to help him and they pile his clothes on the front seat—passenger side. After much wiggling and lifting of ass, Sam is now in tank-t and tight boxer briefs. He feels he's undressed enough to begin helping Dean. Dean feels sadly tiny back here, compared to Sam. Taking off his jacket and having Sam peel his shirt layers away until he's in a light gray t-shirt that just says “Stanford”... Sam caresses over the lettering and feels Dean's frantic heartbeats. In such a small way, Dean's made it damn certain how often Sam isn't far from his mind. He gets a bit misty-eyed as they yank Dean's jeans, lifting his backside off the seat. Boots and socks are last and his clothes are stacked in the driver's seat.

A bit nervous and flustered, Dean tries to sit normally with his body responding again with anticipation. “Riding in the Impala won't be the same again.”

“You'll have to be very clear what you want. I'll start to think 'riding in the impala' is a euphemism for sex... instead, you know, of an actual ride in this car.”

Dean snorts out a snicker, feeling a little less tense, like he has to impress Sam. He turns to sit with right leg drawn up, facing Sam. While Sam does the same on his side, but his left leg is bent and rest on the cushions. Both are leaning back on the doors. Dean stretches out his hand over the back seat's upper curve of cushion, Sam meets him halfway threading their fingers and holding tight—it's the strongest grasp of their fingers that didn't involve saving the other's life while hunting and killing things. Sam tugs on the arm, causing Dean to have to move forward. Sam looks over every inch of Dean's hand, then his forearm and then he lifts the sleeve hem on the biceps to kiss the hidden bare skin.

“I have another one just like it.” Dean teases as he watches Sam.

“... _jerk_...”

“... _bitch_...”

Hazel eyes look up at lowered green and they share a sweet smile.

“You have the ability to stop me at any time. I won't hate you.”

“Good to know, but I'm all in as long as you're in this with me.”

“I really didn't think you'd ever outright ask.” Sam kisses along the shoulder, up the neck and then hands come out to lift the hem of t-shirt from bottom up. Second to the last pieces of clothing comes off and Dean self-consciously crosses an arm over his bare chest to scratch at his other arm's biceps. Sam is sadly left with only being able to kiss the upper chest. He begins at the tattoo... the one similar to his own.

Dean watches the dark brown head, then lifts his right hand to move over the tank strap and trace the same design that inks his skin. He closes his eyes because now Sam's licking and sucking his way to a nipple as Dean has dropped his arm. Pert and dusky, Dean's fascinated by the perfect white teeth biting and pulling the nub as there's no sense of pain, only more arousal. He sinks backward; he wants to lay down as best he can and watch Sam loom over him. And as he almost rests his head on the leather cushions, Sam's figured out a pillow substitute and Dean's head is cradled infinitely more comfortably than it would have been. He has leverage and traction now as he lifts the tank-t and hem to tell Sam he's too overdressed.

The minute the white cotton is off and thrown in the front seat, Sam is back to the other nipple, then trailing down the flat stomach to the belly button. Dean automatically raises his body as fingers catch on the elastic of his boxers. He thinks they'll be removed quick and his drying, stiffening length will be exposed to air. But Sam buries his face away in the moist front of the plaid material and the sight of Sam turned on by such a feral smell and the leftover taste of him just pushes a kink button Dean didn't know he had. Half-lidded hazel eyes look at him as he gently bucks his hips. He needs to be completely naked five minutes ago.

Sam sees the eagerness and he appreciates it, but that's not the kind of sexual partner he is. He's not going to rush this even if Dean has given him permission to be as hard and rough as he needs to be. That's not who Sam has ever been and Dean knows it. It's Dean's way of continually trying to piss Sam off, getting him riled up and pissed off—like his demon-side would flourish and then Dean would have felt guilty for unleashing the beast within.

Not the case. Sam has more control than that. As he throws Dean's boxers to the front seat, he stares down beneath him and actually finds it difficult to breathe and there's a little pain in his chest. Dean's always been the more attractive Winchester brother, but Sam had no idea the rest of the body could back up that gorgeous face. It's not the muscled chest or the trim waist with thick thighs. It's not even the dark blond pubic curls bedding the impressive cock. To Sam, it's everything merged together to make Dean. He realizes his weird pause has baffled Dean, so he bends low to kiss him, easing him to calm. He even notices the tiny quakes Dean's body suffers as he attempts to stave off desire and coupled fear. Dean responds favorably to the kisses as he widens the span of his legs to fit Sam in between them. The contact of their bodies is near molten and Dean gyrates his hips to bump against Sam. He's not even sure he can take much more, the wait and anticipation is slowly drowning him.

Sam smirks and brushes his long bangs against Dean's brow. “Turn over... I'll get you wet for me...” It sounds strange for him to say to another man as he's often said something similar to a young woman. But since they're without condoms, he knows there's no lubrication handy. Sam lifts to watch Dean turn onto his stomach as he hugs the pile of jackets to his flushed face and Dean plants left knee on the seat and bends the right knee to extend the leg to the flooring. Dean thinks Sam's going right for the rimming, but he's startled with a tender kiss on the neck, nose tip sliding to the nape and then lips applying pressure to the space between his shoulder blades. Hands sculpt down Dean's sides as kisses trail over his expansive back with gentle massages and then the mouth and nose trace to the lower spine.

Dean thrusts into Sam's hands as they shape his ass cheeks and split apart the flesh. He sucks in air as the coolness in the car soothes over puckered skin. Sam bends low to kiss and lick at the niche right above the crack of the bare bottom. He takes the tip of his tongue and trails a line down the split skin to the anus. He gathers spit and coats the circle of flesh, then the scent of Dean, musk of sweat and plain manliness pelts him and he's burying inches deep with his tongue. Dean cries out and bucks upward, wishing the tongue could go deeper, like the fingers. He starts to move as Sam pushes in and out frantically, then drags the tongue further downward to the scrotal sac dangling. Again, Dean's unaware of actions just sensations. He can't believe it, but he's pretty sure he's about to come a second time.

Sam's hand moves under to tug on bare cock while he moistens the hole. Now he's considering doggy-style over missionary. And if the most comfortable they can be in the car is _this_ way, then Sam will do it. Though he wants to see Dean's face when he enters him, connect with those intense green eyes that have the power to slay him with one look. He misses Dean already, so he aligns his body at Dean's back and kisses the nape, the neck and finds that Dean's turning his head to look over his shoulder, trying to give him his mouth. Sam helps out by using his tall frame to curl around and under, sweeping into take the offered lips.

This makes Dean have to twist his upper torso, which looks painful, but surprisingly isn't. Dean grabs onto Sam's head, fingers tight in brown locks as he buries his nails to yank and pull. He's imagining the feel of Sam entering him now, in this position, and his legs start to quiver—badly. Sam feels everything and he doesn't want Dean to be alone this time. He hurries to slip out of his briefs, tossing them... wherever... and then his erect cock juts out, sliding between Dean's thighs to fit along the testicles and tangle with Dean's own cock. A couple of thrusts and Dean's squeezing Sam tight and calling out his name.

“... _sammy—yes... sammy—yesss_...” Dean jolts within Sam's circle of arms with each release he feels.

And in a few more frenzied juts, Sam is ejaculating on his own guttural moan and his lower body collapses on Dean, tumbling them down to the backseat.

“... oh, god...”

“... sex is gonna fuckin' kills us...”

“We haven't done much and I've come twice.”

“I'm not complaining. I think you're beautiful when you orgasm.”

They slip-slide faces together, cheek to cheek.

Dean's got his head turned, laying on his left cheek, with Sam laying protectively over him, keeping him warm and safe. Sam rests his head on Dean's, every once and awhile he'll break away to kiss the freckled flesh under him, his fingers dancing over naked flesh.

“Even with this odd-as-shit quivering I keep doing that I can't seem to control.”

“I like it 'cuz it's uniquely— _you_. I hope it's how I make you feel.”

“It is— _dear god, it is_... why do you think I pulled the car over instead of crashing?”

“Well, I'm glad you did or we wouldn't be here now.”

“I think I'm ready.”

“You sure?”

“More than I ever have been.”

It's at that moment that Sam rises again, over Dean.

“Is _this_ okay? Like _this_?” Sam's fist formed are planted on either side of Dean's hips on the backseat leather cushions.

“Yeah... did you see how our legs have to be in the other position to get that shit right?”

“One of us would be in some serious joint pain tomorrow.”

“This'll do... for now. I'm comfortable—well, as I can be.” Dean readies his body for the moment of penetration, but again... he expected something else than what he got. Sam sucks on two fingers, inserts one, then the second; he's not just going to coldly stab himself into Dean, although he knew Dean expects him to. When he's satisfied with Dean's reactions, he takes out his fingers to slick up his length with his own saliva. Dean is up on elbows and knees, ass spread and lifted as Sam takes his cock in hand and slaps the length along the split, letting Dean feel the heat. Sam pulls back and guides his tip in slowly, pausing to hear Dean's response, but hears nothing—not even a tiny whimper. He pushes forward and inch or two and still Dean isn't crying out for more or less. Sam's a little worried, so he bends down to make sure Dean is okay.

“ _... dean..._ ”

Dean peeks at Sam from under his arm. “ _... uh-huh..._ ” He's been shoving his forehead into the jacket-pillows for balance.

Sam smiles, kissing Dean's shoulder as he goes back to his prior position. “Just checkin'. Tell me how it feels.”

“I'm—all right.” Dean's voice is muffled from underneath his body, but he sounds... calm. “I feel the pressure but I supposed that's just because—”

Sam inches in a little further and feels the push back. “Dean...”

“I know. I'm not—” Dean lifts his head. “—i's not on purpose. I want this, I do, so badly, but—”

“... hey, hey...” Sam aligns their bodies again, chest to back. “... we're not that spontaneous, okay? It's not the end of the world.”

It's a terrible sentence to use to tease or taunt Dean. “har-har... god, I jus'—I guess I never realized how alone in this position it makes you feel. I wanna call all those women I put in this—well, position... and tell them how sorry I am.”

Sam hooks an arm around Dean's middle, hugging him and nuzzling the side of his face. “I think I know what our problem is.”

“What?”

“It's been bothering me since we started.”

“What? Tell me...”

“Your face. I can't see your face. I want... when I'm fucking you, I wanna—yeah, well, maybe I was wrong.” Sam shuts up the minute Dean stopped glancing over his shoulder at him.

“You're not. Get up.”

“But I'm already...” Sam rises to his knees and slowly eases out, then reaches to smooth a thumb pad over the hole. He's waiting to see where he's supposed to go next.

Dean spins around on his knees, facing Sam. “We should have done this first. Sit down, feet on the floorboards. I'll straddle you.”

“Oh, yeah... of course...” Sam feels a little dumb he didn't think of it. He gladly takes the seat, holding his erection to his body as he spreads his legs to give Dean the proper “seat” to rest his bottom on.

Dean throws his left leg over and slides down to check out how his weight will be on Sam and if he bucks up too high, will his head hit the ceiling? (it doesn't). But with one solid hug from Sam, as he's biting and nipping at his skin, he realizes he can do _this_. He latches onto the back cushion, right where Sam has leaned his head. Sam's sliding his hands up and down his back, keeping him close to his chest. Dean smirks and winks down at Sam, cupping his sweet face and bending low to press soft kisses on open lips.

“mmm... I like this better...”

“Me too. I can see you, you can see me... and I like the weight of you. You're kind of light.”

“And you are a giant of a man. I don't know where you got the gene, but I'm about to find out if I like this fact you're bigger in all the right places.”

“Later on, you can do Reverse Cowgirl. _That_ should be fun.”

“Wouldn't that be 'cow ** _boy_** '?”

“Whatever... it's the 'reverse' part that counts. It's supposed to give you a different heightened sensation.”

“Someone's brushing up on sexual positions.”

“I blame you. All those links to porn sites, how can I _not_ be curious and click one?”

“Oh—well, I doubt I'll need those places anymore, because once we— _jesus_ , this is the longest I've ever conversed during sex and after. What are you doing to me, Sammy?”

“Corrupting you, like always.”

“mmm... corrupt away, baby brother...” Dean bends down to kiss Sam, but finds the head, and lips, averting. “whoa... was it something I said?”

Sam sighs, his hand clamp and rub over Dean's thighs at each side of his legs. “Being brothers is what got us here together... being Winchesters put us in a strange predicament where it can _only_ be us, alone... I don't know... I get weirded out when it's intimate, like this, and I'm slapped with the reality that we're 'brothers'... we're related—that society'll shun us if we even...”

Dean's genuinely concerned by Sam's inner turmoil. “... 'brother' has so many different meanings. Even unrelated males call each other 'brother'. It can be a form of endearment.”

“But you _are_ my brother.”

“Think of it like we're related so that we always had a connection and we could find one another.”

“What? Like soul mates?”

“Maybe in another life we were completely different people, different genders... unrelated and we're pulled together every time because there's never gonna be anyone else for us.”

“... wow—talk about no chick flick moments... dude, that was—you sure that wasn't a movie you Pay-Per-View'd?”

“I read too, College Boy.”

“Yeah, but did you hear yourself? You were optimistic and uplifting... like you actually believe it's possible.”

“It's you. Being with you, I feel—I feel changed—a little. Like I am who I'm supposed to be.”

“Who?”

“ _Yours._ ”

And without Sam truly realizing it, Dean has been lifting his body to guide Sam's cock under him so that once he said his final word he'd take the whole of Sam into his body.

“ _... oh, gawd... deeeeeannn..._ ”

“ _Ssshhh, ssshhh_... still—be still... _please_... I'm not sure if I'm too tight or you're too big.”

“... _ungh_... i's neither... _oh, man_... I think if you move, I'll come...”

“Then it's best we stay still.”

“ _... ohgod, ohgod... my god... dean..._ ”

“mmm-hmm...”

“How—how does it feel?—how do I feel? Truthfully...”

“I can't help but think back to when I first heard Mom was pregnant with you...”

“Dean, no... please... don't—don't do that... don'...”

“I's okay... _ssshhh sshhh_... i's not bad, i's good... i's good, I promise...”

Sam lets his head fall against Dean's chest as he closes his eyes, arms wrapped solidly around Dean's waist.

“... they broke the news to me gently you were on the way, unsure I'd take it well that a new baby was gonna take my place in the adorably cute department...” Dean brushes knuckles along a cheek, his head's resting on top of the shaggy brown hair. “I followed mom around. I was her 'little helper'—” His voice chokes and Sam hugs him tighter. “I thought she was pretty, like a princess. Dad thought so too—not the princess part, though. Mom just... glowed... I couldn't wait for you to be born.” Dean touches Sam's skin as he keeps talking.

“ _... dean..._ ”

“... the day you arrived... I don't know, such a rush. I wasn't prepared. No one was. I was ignored a lot and not allowed in the room, but Mom insisted. She wanted me to see you as soon as possible. She did her best to invite me into everything she did with you. Mom stayed a little longer in the hospital, but they brought you home three days later. I was right back to being the 'little helper'. This time you were actually here.” Dean tilted Sam's head back, seeing the moisture-filled eyes and the wetness coating the face. Using his thumbs, he wipes them away, then presses a kiss on each eyelid as it closes when he nears. “My heart was so full of love for you and you hadn't even formed into a real person for me yet... you did have a personality...”

Sam sniffles and opens his eyes to stare at Dean, letting out a small, sad smile. “Your heart feels full again.”

Dean nods his head, green eyes darting over Sam's face. “Sorry I creeped you out more and made you cry. But I have those kind of memories in my head. I've pushed them back for this— _life_ we lead. It kills the human parts of me that usually feel joy.”

“... and I gave those back to you...”

“You did and you still do.”

Dean left his head leaning on Sam's, placing his hand on the backseat cushion for balance as he started to move up and down on Sam's thick cock. “I think you're right.”

“I was?”

“This feeling—between us... defies love, goes beyond definition... maybe I've always felt this way— _aghhh, god, yes... yesyesyes... fuuuck yes..._ ” Dean feels Sam begin to pound into him.

They're mismatched in tempo for only a minute before they find an equal rhythm.

“Are you close?”

“I'm getting there.”

“Did you wanna come together or... does it even matter to you?”

“Nah, doesn't matter... if we miss each other, plenty of time to get it right.”

“That's fair— _uggghhh! Gawd... yesyeah, rightthere... jus'..._ ”

Dean keeps his body still, letting Sam thrust into him at a frantic pace until he cries out his eventual release. Dean caresses him in the aftermath, working his anal walls for every last drop. And it's a shocking second jolt of Sam's body of another orgasm that sends Dean over the edge, coming for the third time and then falling into Sam's arms, draped over his body.

Sam's there—like always, arms secure about Dean's weary, exhausted frame. “...oh, man, how embarrassing... I think we've steamed up the windows...”

Dean's got only enough energy to lift his head once, before he's right back to Sam's neck and shoulder. “mmm... I might be half-dead... you may have to drive us the rest of the way to Hayton.”

“Whoa...” Sam soothes over Dean's naked back. “... you really have changed. Giving over your keys so easily? Next you'll even let me pick the music.”

“Nah... I always pick the music, pussy-whipped or not.”

Sam leans his cheek on Dean's face. “You're not pussy-whipped... you're just feeling the aftereffects of being in love.”

“mmm-hmm...”

Sam digs around for their jackets, just something to cover Dean so the sweat on his skin doesn't give him a chill as it dries. “Go to sleep, Dean. I'll wake you up in half-an-hour... we'll get back on the road.”

“Ten... twenty minutes, tops. Then we can go.”

“If you don't let your eyes stay closed, an' keep quiet... I'll make it an hour, Dean.”

“Okay, fine. Half-hour... no need to be a _bitch_...”

“I will if you stop being such a _jerk_.”

“Never”

“Same here.”

“... love you, Sammy...”

“... love you, Dean...” Sam can already feel Dean going slack in his arms, but he continues to hold Dean until he shuts his own eyes and drifts off to take a short nap as well.

 **~*~the end**


End file.
